


Maps

by strongcat



Series: She-Ra: The Magical Universe [2]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Catra (She-Ra) Needs a Hug, Catra Goes to Therapy (She-Ra), Catra discovers that the real magic was the friends-to-enemies-to-lovers she made along the way, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Guilt, Implied Sexual Content, except perfuma is not the therapist, well she tries but it doesn't go well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:08:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25157512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strongcat/pseuds/strongcat
Summary: Catra learns how to navigate the Whispering Woods.—“You have done some bad things, dearie.”The fur on Catra’s spine stood up and she furrowed her brow. “Yeah, I know, okay? No need to rub it in,” she grumbled. She sipped her tea and turned her gaze toward the wall.“But do you think the trees are scared of you? Angry at you? The Woods have been around far longer than even Madame Razz. The scars of this war that you and Adora fought are not the first, and they will not be the last.” Razz sipped her own tea, then breathed a deep sigh. “I must have taught you this lesson a thousand times already, dearie. Magic does not hold petty grudges! Magic is simply there, waiting for you to decide how to treat it. Will you try to destroy it? Control it? Or will you let it into your heart?”
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Catra & Melog (She-Ra), Catra & Razz (She-Ra)
Series: She-Ra: The Magical Universe [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2027075
Comments: 32
Kudos: 284





	1. Home

**Author's Note:**

> here it is! my second-ever fanfic!  
> i got the idea from this from [this piece](https://artofkace.tumblr.com/post/621125597969743872/razz-starting-to-teach-magic-to-catra-for-a-ko-fi) by [artofkace](https://artofkace.tumblr.com/)! i loved the idea of razz getting catra to ~feel the magic~ so that's what this is! but with a lot more Feelings.  
> i went with an M rating because catra has a potty mouth and there's some off-screen sex in chapter 1, which i've made into my first (and possibly only) smut fic called ["directions"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25453471), which you should def read, but only if you are 18+ pls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra resolves to find someone else to talk to about her feelings.

Catra buried her face in the heap of wheat blonde hair in front of her. The smell of her sleeping partner usually did the trick and lulled her back to sleep, but tonight it just wasn’t working. Too many things, both inside her head and outside, were conspiring to keep her awake.

She had a lot of experience with sleepless nights. It used to be that she went days, even weeks without catching a wink, in avoidance of some shadowy nightmare based on her most recent bad decision. Back then she hadn’t minded too much; it had even been a source of pride at times, how little she slept. She thought it proved her dedication to the Horde. Now, though, it was just an annoyance. Another little reminder that she didn’t quite fit in with these princess types, with their clear consciences and immaculate circadian rhythms.

Then again, neither did Adora, really. Catra recalled that she had always been a notoriously light sleeper, even as a child. Had Catra remembered this before she sought comfort in her girlfriend’s nape, she might have avoided the conversation that was about to take place.

Adora breathed a heavy sigh as she roused and rolled over, careful not to disturb the arm and leg that Catra had draped over her. Her eyes barely opened as she pressed a whisper of a kiss against Catra’s forehead. “Hey,” she murmured, her low, gentle voice squeaking from disuse.

“Hey, Adora.” Catra spoke past the lump that had lodged itself in her throat in the past few minutes.

“Trouble sleeping again?”

Catra ran the mental calculus, trying to predict all the ways the interaction could go. If she admitted that she was having trouble sleeping, Adora would ask why, and Catra would have to lie and say it was nothing. Unsatisfied with such a non-answer, Adora would ask again. Catra wasn’t sure if she could convincingly manage the second denial without her feelings surging over the fragile levee she had built to contain them. If she lied and told Adora that she had just woken up, instead of having been awake and stewing in guilt for at least an hour, there could be some plausible deniability. But the tremor in her voice had been too obvious when she first spoke. Catra realized that if she said anything now, whether her words were true or not, Adora would pick up on her distress and try to comfort her.

She opted to nuzzle herself under Adora’s chin and nod. She had hoped this would signal that she was indeed having trouble sleeping, but that there was nothing to discuss. As much as she would have liked to cry into Adora’s arms and release all of her grief and anguish, it would have felt wrong. 

She saw what her partner dealt with day in and day out. Everywhere she went, Adora was expected to save the day one way or another. Brokering new peace treaties, taming magical wildlands, planning the reconstruction of the Fright Zone — everyone wanted a piece of Adora, and she was more than willing to hand out slices of herself until she was nothing but scraps. It would have been unreasonably selfish for Catra to insist that Adora save some for her, especially considering her own part in creating most of Adora’s obligations. And Catra was not supposed to be selfish anymore.

But still, after all the effort Catra expended to keep her pain concealed, Adora somehow still managed to pick up the scent.

Catra felt Adora’s chest push against her with another deep sigh. “Is there something you wanted to talk about?”

Catra shut her eyes as tightly as she could, struggling to hold back the tears. There was genuine concern in Adora’s voice that never seemed to run out. She couldn’t help but melt into the warmth of it. The moisture in her eyes dripped across her face and onto the bed sheets. “I just… I don’t want to make you take care of me.”

“Catra…” Adora ran her fingers gently through Catra’s hair, still short but getting long enough to tickle her neck. “You know that’s not what this is. I want to be here for you because I love you. You’re not making me do anything.”

Her consistency on that point was admirable, Catra thought, considering that it was complete bullshit. “No, Adora,” she growled through her tears. “It shouldn’t be your job to coddle me like this. You shouldn’t have to deal with this shit on top of all the other trouble I’ve caused you.”

Adora pulled Catra away and put a hand against her cheek, lifting her face until she met Adora’s shimmering gray eyes. Her voice became clear and steady, her touches firm. “Listen to me, Catra. I’m not doing this because it’s my job. I’m doing this because you’re my best friend, and I don’t want to just ignore you when you’re hurting. That’s not who I am. You should know that by now.”

Catra sniffled and blinked more tears out of her eyes. “I know, okay? I know. You’re ridiculously selfless and you always want to help people and you’re a fucking paragon of love and friendship, or whatever.” She saw Adora knit her dark eyebrows together in something close to pain, like too much pressure on an old scar. Realizing what she had said, Catra cringed. This was exactly what she wasn’t supposed to do anymore. She was supposed to have learned her lesson, to be more vulnerable and stop pushing people away. But sometimes the armor of spikes and poison she used to wear was the only comfort she could find in this world that was still so new to her. 

She took a deep breath and tried to shrug it off, tried to let herself be soft again. It didn’t come naturally. It never had. Catra was claws and fangs and anger, and that’s what had always let her survive. She struggled, but managed to remind herself that survival was no longer the game. This was about Adora. This was about living. 

Finally, Catra spoke again. “You’re kind and selfless and sweet and… I love those things about you. I do.” She paused to close the distance between their lips briefly. “I guess I just don’t want you trying to carry all my baggage for me.”

Adora’s eyes softened. “But you don’t have to carry it all yourself, either. I can handle it. I promise.”

“Trust me,” Catra chuckled, “You don’t want it. I’m not even sure She-Ra has the arms for this stuff.”

Adora shared in the laugh, but her expression shifted back to concern quickly. “Have you thought about talking to Perfuma? She seems to have a pretty good grasp on the whole… feelings thing.”

A sigh escaped Catra’s lips as her eyes darted down to Adora’s chest, the faint scar of the Failsafe still visible, peeking out of her tank top. “Yeah, I probably should.” 

Perfuma had extended an open invitation to her some time ago, before the Heart, to join her in “guided meditation,” whatever that was. Talking to other people about her feelings wasn’t that simple, though. It was an endeavor into a terrifying openness, like sailing out onto the sea for the first time and realizing that there was nothing around her but water in all directions. It had taken a lifetime of work and twice as much grief for her to finally open up to Adora about how she felt. Catra wasn’t sure if she would ever be able to do all of that again, especially with someone who she hardly knew. She could still barely hold a conversation with Bow and Glimmer. Talking to Perfuma, about her _feelings_ no less, sounded like diving off a boat with no life vest.

She glanced up from the pale expanse of her bedmate’s chest to her face. Adora always looked at her like she was the most precious thing in the world, like she had hung the moons in the sky. It made Catra’s chest ache to think that she might be deceiving Adora, that there was a chance she was just the same bitter, angry person who had consciously tried to end the world multiple times. But she had learned that the only way for her to be happy, to be with Adora, was to be the person that Adora believed she was. It was back-breaking work. But maybe it was worth it to see Adora’s goofy kilowatt smile every day.

That same smile spread across Adora’s face, lighting up like the three moons of daytime. Her eyebrow cocked with mischief. “Come on, Catra, don’t you wanna make more princess friends?” She surprised Catra with a pair of fingers in the armpit, which almost earned her a claw to the face.

She was so sweet it made Catra’s stomach hurt, like those stupid cakes Sparkles insisted on serving after every dinner at Bright Moon. Catra smirked to conceal the melting of her heart. “Alright, dummy. I’ll go talk to her.”

Before Catra could react, Adora scooped her up and rolled over, pinning Catra to the bed with her dumb fucking muscles. Those stupid, rippling biceps. Beautiful, powerful shoulders on either side of her thick skull with those piercing eyes, and those soft lips that now lowered onto Catra’s and silenced every other thought in her head.

She felt heat flood her face as she softened into the kiss. Almost automatically, her arms wrapped around Adora’s back and her hands traced the hard contours there. Catra’s thin layer of fur bristled as she felt Adora’s body press down into hers, covering her in warmth, eliciting a quiet purr from her throat.

Adora parted her lips from Catra’s and leaned down into the crook of her neck. Her breathy whisper tickled the sensitive fur in Catra’s ear, making it twitch. “I love you so much.”

Catra couldn’t help the rumble that now vibrated through her entire body. “I love you too, idiot.”

* * *

Mid-morning daylight was creeping across the floor when Catra woke up. She stretched and extended a clawed hand, expecting to find a pair of muscular arms to crawl into, but Adora’s spot on the bed was empty. Always the early riser. Catra flopped to her other side, careful to keep the blanket wrapped around her as she was considerably more naked than when she went to bed. She peered across the cavernous bedroom, and there Adora was, hunched over the desk, still in her light gray tank top and shorts.

After some searching, Catra located her own shorts and sports bra in the tangle of sheets, and slipped out of bed. Her tail swayed gently as she waltzed over to the desk where her girlfriend sat. Leaning forward over the back of the chair, Catra reached down to caress the soft skin just below Adora’s collarbone. She placed a kiss right behind that silly hair poof.

Adora startled at the sudden contact but relaxed quickly once she realized who it was. “Oh, hey! You’re up,” she said, sounding entirely too chipper by Catra’s standards.

“I missed cuddling you this morning,” Catra mumbled into Adora’s hair.

“Aw, babe,” Adora cooed as she stroked the forearm that Catra had laid across her chest, “That’s so sweet. You didn’t get enough of me last night?”

A soft chuckle shook Catra’s chest. She lifted her head as she stood straight, bringing her hand up to stroke Adora’s cheek. “No, hotshot, you were plenty.”

Turning away from the starmap she had been drafting, Adora met Catra’s gaze. That warmth just never seemed to leave her eyes these days. “Do you want breakfast? I already ate but I’d be happy to go get you something if you wanna stay in bed.”

Catra slipped away to the dresser and pulled out an old pair of ripped black leggings and one of Adora’s many turtleneck shirts that she had… repurposed. She scoffed as she slipped her arms through the cut-off sleeves. “Adora, it’s your day off. I’m not gonna ask you to be my butler. Besides, I’m going to talk to Perfuma today anyway. I’ll grab something on the way.”

Reminded of their conversation from the middle of the night, Adora’s eyes clouded with concern. “Alright. Come get me if you need anything?”

Catra’s head poked through the collar of the shirt, cut into a sloppy V-neck. “What, do you want to give me a bell or something so I can summon you? ‘Oh, Adora!’” she mocked, in an affected high-pitched voice, “‘You must come carry me at once! The floors are much too hard for my precious wittle feetsies!’”

The worry vanished from Adora’s face as she let out a laugh. Catra allowed herself a cackle as well, though mostly because of the snort that ripped through Adora’s nose. After slipping on her leggings, she strolled back over to the desk and knelt down to kiss her girlfriend’s rosy cheek. “Take it easy, Adora. I’m serious. Promise me you’ll let yourself relax.”

Adora leaned against Catra’s forehead. “I will. I promise.”

“Good girl.” Catra stood up, lightly dragging a claw against Adora’s bicep, and watched a blush spread down her neck. “I’ll be back in time for tea, alright?”

Catra once again let Adora’s smile wash over her. “Alright. I love you, Catra.”

“Love you too, Adora.” She placed one more quick kiss on Adora’s forehead then walked towards the massive double-door of their room. There was a shimmer in the air near the door as Melog materialized.

“Oh, hey, wait,” Adora said, spinning around in her chair to face Catra on her way out. “Do you still need a map of the castle? I had Bow load one onto a mini-pad for you.” She picked up a small rectangular screen off the desk, no larger than her hand, and held it out to Catra.

Melog mewled as Catra rubbed the top of their head, their ethereal blue mane swaying. “Nah, I’ve got this thing. They know their way around.”

Adora placed the mini-pad back on the desk gently. “Oh, cool! Damn, I wish Swift Wind would learn that. He’s been here for years and I still found him in the library the other day looking for the kitchen.”

Catra winked at Adora as she placed another mental tally mark in Melog’s column for ‘coolest magical animal companion.’ She waggled her fingers in a flirtatious wave goodbye. “See you later, dumbass.”

“Bye!” Adora replied, waving giddily at Catra and Melog as they slipped out the door and into the grand hallways of Castle Bright Moon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't be fooled! This chapter may have been nice and fluffy but things are going to get Difficult. Happy ending still to come, though, don't worry.


	2. Guide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra tries to talk to Perfuma about her feelings. It doesn't go well.

Bounding through the castle halls was an excellent workout to get Catra’s day started, especially with Melog’s magic concealing her from any judgmental courtiers. She still wasn’t sure of the layout of the expansive palace, but Melog had spent far more time exploring than she had, and was willing to guide her wherever she wanted to go. This time, the pair were headed for the kitchen, where leftovers from the morning’s breakfast were sure to be laid out buffet-style.

Melog slowed as they rounded the corner into the kitchen and lifted their magical cloak. Catra followed them in, hoping for an entree that was easy to eat. Steak and eggs, maybe. But no, what awaited her on the buffet tables were omelets, stuffed to the seams with beans, pungent mushrooms, smelly greens, sticky melted cheese, and topped with some slimy slices of fruit she had heard were called “avocado.” Extravagant foods still didn’t agree with Catra’s senses after all the years she spent living off of too few Horde rations.

Her ears fell as she surveyed the spread. The only safe options this time were the breads and fruits at the end of the table, and a pile of stale bacon strips. Catra sighed and placed an apple, two breakfast rolls, and a handful of bacon on a plate. She glanced down at Melog, whose expression had also drooped with Catra’s disappointment. She offered the creature a piece of bacon, curious to see if they would eat. Instead, they mewed politely.  _ No, thank you. I do not require physical sustenance. _

Catra shrugged. “Worth a shot.”

The pair wandered leisurely out of the massive kitchen. Melog led the way towards the bedroom with the courtyard where Perfuma stayed on her regular visits to Bright Moon, Catra falling behind them to eat her meager breakfast as she walked.

* * *

Catra dusted some crumbs off her hands, wiping them on her leggings to rid them of bacon grease as they approached the guest room. The plate she held was empty, save for the core of her apple.

Just as she and Melog reached another unnecessarily tall door, it opened. Out stepped the person who she could have expected to be there, but desperately hoped wouldn’t be: Scorpia. The ceramic breakfast plate fell from Catra’s hand.

Out of all the bridges Catra had burned, Scorpia’s was the one she felt the least prepared to rebuild. Unlike Adora, for whom she’d had somewhat genuine — if misguided — reasons to resent, Scorpia had done absolutely nothing to spurn her. All she had done, in fact, was try to be a good friend. Scorpia was a brave warrior on either side, a strong protector, loyal to a fault, and — Catra had to admit — she  _ did _ give great hugs. And all Catra had done in return was treat her like garbage. How could their friendship come back from that? How could Scorpia forgive her for anything she did?

She had already apologized to Scorpia. More than once, actually. The first time, just after the Heart, she got a wordless hug. The second time was at one of Bright Moon’s many victory parties. That time, Scorpia had said, “It’s okay, wildcat. You were going through a lot.” 

While it was true — Catra had been spiralling out of control for nigh-on a year when Scorpia had left — it felt less like being forgiven and more like being excused. Like Scorpia didn’t hold her accountable for what happened. Like Catra didn’t have any choice in the matter. But the more distance Catra gained from the situation, the more she realized that she’d had every opportunity in the world to treat Scorpia better. It felt like she didn’t even deserve to be forgiven, let alone to be absolved. So why did Scorpia seem to insist otherwise? And why did Catra keep trying to apologize?

The plate shattered against the marble floor of the hallway. Catra shrieked, instinctively jumping away, her tail puffing out to twice its normal size. Melog shrunk themself and hid behind Catra’s legs. Embarrassed, Catra crouched and began picking up the scattered shards and the apple core. 

“Uh…” Catra fumbled to get everything into her hands, which suddenly seemed far too small. “Hey, Scorpia! How’s uh… how’s it going?” She forced a smile, chuckling awkwardly.

“Catra! It’s, y’know, it’s been great. Things back home are a little weird, but uh… yeah, I’m here now, hanging out with Perfuma, since we’re… you know…” Scorpia glanced at the floor and blushed deeply, cheeks almost the hue of her armored carapace. She scratched the back of her head with her claw.

Catra remembered seeing how the two had looked at each other after their victory. She remembered being the recipient of that loving stare once, and how she had hid from it, had tried to snuff it out. But Perfuma was never anything but absolutely open, wearing her heart on her sleeve like a medal of honor. It made perfect sense to her that they had ended up together. Scorpia deserved far better than Catra, and she got it.

“I heard, yeah.” Catra paused to examine the floor. “Scorpia… I’m really happy for you.” She looked back up and allowed a genuine smile to curve her lips for a second.

Scorpia returned the smile. “Thanks, wildcat. I’m happy for you too.”

They stood there for a minute, just smiling at each other, Catra trying and failing to feel some kind of reconciliation happening.

“So, did you need something, or…?” Scorpia asked, motioning back over her shoulder towards the bedroom door.

“Oh, right. Yeah. I was here to talk to Perfuma, actually.” Catra carefully adjusted the broken shards in her hands.

Scorpia’s brow arched in surprise. “Oh! Oh, okay. Gotcha. I was actually just gonna go grab a snack. Did you uh… want me to bring you something?”

Catra chuckled. “No, thanks.” She lifted the broken plate to show Scorpia. “Just ate.”

“Right.” Scorpia sighed.

There was a pregnant silence, then they both spoke at once.

“Well, see you later, Catra!” “Nice seeing you, Scorpia.”

They averted their gazes from one another as Scorpia set off down the hall, past Catra and Melog.

The spectral cat mewed softly at Catra as they brushed against her shin.  _ There was not a good way out of that conversation. You did your best. _

Catra lifted a hand to her forehead and rubbed at the tension between her brows. A few bits of ceramic clattered against the floor. “Does my best still count if I’m the fucking worst?”

* * *

Catra knocked on the painted oak door to the garden bedroom. From within, a calm and cheerful voice replied, “Come in!”

She opened the door to find Perfuma sitting cross-legged on a floor cushion, her hands resting on her knees with palms facing upward. She wore a pink silken dressing gown that shimmered in the daylight that streamed through the open archway. The floral princess faced the door as Catra walked in with Melog at her feet.

“Hello, Catra! It’s lovely to see you,” Perfuma intoned in her peaceful, musical manner.

Before anything else, Catra quickly located a dustbin next to the door and dumped her broken plate and apple core. “Hey, Perfuma. Sorry for dropping in unannounced. I just really needed to talk to someone.”

“Oh, you weren’t unannounced,” Perfuma replied matter-of-factly. “I could hear you coming perfectly well through the door.”

Catra was caught off guard, and she stammered for a moment, blushing. “Oh, shit. Uh. I mean, oh, shoot. You heard…” she motioned back to the closed door, “...all of that?”

“Not all, no. Just enough to know that you and Scorpia are well on your way to rekindling your friendship!” Perfuma smiled pleasantly. She appeared woefully unaware of the turmoil beneath Catra’s surface.

“Right,” Catra replied. She grasped her elbow for a moment and her tail swatted back and forth. She hovered awkwardly in front of the door, not sure what to do. Perfuma took the cue and gestured to the pillow across from her on the floor. Hesitantly, Catra plodded over and lowered herself onto the cushion, mirroring Perfuma’s position.

“What would you like to do today, Catra?” Perfuma’s warm sunflower smile never wavered.

The only thing Catra felt sure of was that her expression betrayed her nervousness. “I just wanted to talk, I think. About… feelings.”

Perfuma nodded. “Of course. It’s important to begin by naming the things you’d like to address. What sort of feelings do you want to talk to me about?”

“Um…” Catra began. She honestly hadn’t thought about where to start with this. Written out, the list of ‘things she’d like to address’ could stretch from here to the Fright Zone. She decided to begin with the biggest, the pile of radioactive elephants in the room. “I guess… guilt. I want to talk about guilt.”

Perfuma hummed in understanding. “That makes sense. You must have quite a few things to feel guilty about.”

Catra gulped, feeling the tip of her tail beginning to twitch.

“I’m sure a significant part has to do with the way you treated people in the Horde, especially those who you hold close to you now.”

She was talking about Scorpia, Catra was sure. Shortly after they had met, Perfuma had scolded Catra for the way she had treated Scorpia before. It was still the only time she had ever seen Perfuma truly angry.

“You may also be feeling guilty about your responsibility for the Horde’s attacks on innocent people, and the way you treated the planet. Your actions also caused damage to people and places that were important to your new friends, like Queen Angella, or Salineas.”

It was starting to get under Catra’s skin just how accurately Perfuma was describing all of the things that had been on her mind for the past few months. Nobody had been able to see past her carefully maintained cool exterior that well since... 

“Your part in bringing Horde Prime to Etheria is probably weighing on you heavily, not to mention the death of Shadow Weaver, and the near-death of Adora.”

Catra’s jaw dropped. All her limbs went cold and her pulse hammered in her ears. Perfuma was in her head. She knew everything. She could see Catra’s thoughts. Catra’s hand shot up to the back of her neck, feeling for a chip. Her ears flattened and pointed straight back. What kind of princess magic bullshit was this? No way was she putting up with this today.

“Catra,” Perfuma continued, seemingly unfazed by the shocked stare she was receiving, “You have hurt people, and there’s much physical damage, and yes, many of those things could be permanent. But even though some of the wounds you left will never heal, you still need to heal  _ yourself _ —”

“Uh, sorry! I have to go!” Catra scrambled up on all fours and bounded out onto the garden terrace as quickly as she could manage.

* * *

Melog shimmered into material form next to her, keeping pace as she launched herself down a grand staircase.  _ What are you running from? Was this not what you desired? _ Their mane shifted colors from sky blue to dark purple, like the ocean at night.

“I just wanted to talk about my feelings!” Catra shouted as the wind blew her short hair back from her forehead. “She read my mind like a fucking map!”

They both ran in leaps along a stone path leading through a large field towards the edge of the Whispering Woods. Catra slowed as they approached the treeline, still intimidated by the shadows beneath the canopy. She finally stopped to catch her breath. Panting, she sat down with her back against a dark, twisted tree, and looked up towards Castle Bright Moon. Melog sat patiently at her feet, staring inquisitively with their not-quite-eyes.

_ To be quite fair, Catra _ , the magical being replied,  _ Princess Perfuma is not a telepath. All of the things she said could have been easily deduced by anyone who knew you and your story. _

“I wish there was someone who  _ didn’t _ know me. I’m basically world famous at this point. Reformed war criminal. She-Ra’s girlfriend. Chronic fuckup.” She pushed her hair back and sighed, dragging a few claws against her scalp. “Anyone I talk to is bound to know my whole damn life story. Can’t there just be one person who hasn’t been my enemy, or my friend, or… my victim?” Catra sighed and dropped her gaze to the ground between her knees.

Melog glanced into the woods behind Catra, then back at her. They stood up and nudged Catra’s knee with their snout.  _ I know where you must go. Come with me _ .

Confused, Catra stood up as her alien friend entered the Whispering Woods. “Wait, Melog, where are we going? We need to stay close to home.”

The mystic cat turned back to look at Catra once more, beckoning her to follow them.  _ We are going to someone who does not yet know you. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter partially in protest of a lot of authors' tendency to make Perfuma this perfect therapist character who never upsets people and always understands boundaries. I projected a Lot onto her while I was writing my [Trans Perfuma Fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24933031) and I think this might be me projecting some more, but regardless. My take on Perfuma is that she thinks of _herself_ as being very emotionally intelligent and always able to help people with their feelings, but that's not always the case. She tends to take for granted that people want to open up to her, and thinks she can always tell what people are feeling, understands those feelings perfectly, and knows whats best for those people. In this case, she knew Catra was hesitant to open up, and so she thought maybe just verbalizing all of Catra's feelings would help take that pressure off, but she was actually pushing Catra way past where she was comfortable. This is something that I, personally, have done. I have a loooong history of trying to be my friends' therapist. And it never works out. Folks, don't be a therapist friend.


	3. Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melog leads Catra into the Whispering Woods, where she meets a peculiar old woman.

Catra had always been uncomfortable in the Whispering Woods. On her first visit, she had crashed a skiff into a tree and her best friend had found a magic sword that tore their relationship apart for three years. Later on, she had gotten trapped in an ancient hallucination palace with Adora and relived nearly all of her childhood trauma, then walked away with some fun, new trauma. Her relationship with the woods was cemented when Entrapta’s experiments with the Black Garnet had caused a massive blizzard that froze them over, leaving the forest almost completely destroyed. At the time, it felt like payback. The princess-infested forest had played a part in robbing her of the only person she’d ever loved. It served the woods right to be decimated, she thought at the time.

As Catra and Melog walked between the giant trees and luminescent underbrush, it felt like reopening an old wound that oozed regret. During her extended stay in space, she had actually found herself missing the woods. She had missed all of Etheria, for that matter. Not just the people, not just Adora, but the planet itself. In her brief time as a leader of the Etherian Horde, she had gotten to see the world and conquer it. She had seen the lush greens and blues of the Whispering Woods, the endless expanses of sand in the Crimson Waste, the mighty rivers carving out stark canyons, the islands that floated in the sky with magic. She had seen it all and tried to burn it down.

Catra had hated the world before she left, but the distance had made her realize that she never wanted to live apart from it. She felt the same way treading gently through the Whispering Woods as she did when carefully tracing the scars on Adora’s back: like a monster. Like she deserved nothing more than shackles and hatred.

Melog followed an invisible trail with their nose, barely looking up to avoid huge, arching roots and the occasional many-eyed creature that crossed their path. Catra followed close behind, her fur standing on end at the unpleasant sensations of moss and loam between her toes.

“What are you following, Melog?” Catra closed her eyes briefly, trying to pick up a scent. “All I can smell in here is plants.” A golden, glowing speck landed on her nose, and she stifled a squeaky sneeze. “And whatever that stuff is.”

Melog turned their head back as they waded gracefully through the underbrush and mewed.  _ Magical energy flows through the roots of the local flora. The paths it follows can be used to navigate. _

“Oh. Weird,” Catra replied, suppressing her amazement at Melog’s magical abilities. Magic had been something of a sore spot recently. Surrounded by princesses and sorcerers, she still held on to some resentment of the way her new friends acted about their powers. Like they were no big deal, as if anyone could control the elements or channel natural energies if they just tried hard enough. 

Having Melog around helped a little, of course. Invisibility was a neat trick, and it had definitely gotten her out of some tight spots before. The empathic link could be inconvenient at times, especially when she was trying not to let on how she was feeling. But most of the time it was nice to have someone — something? — who could always understand her.

Still though, not having any sort of innate or learned magical ability made Catra feel… disconnected somehow. She wasn’t sure if the disconnect was from herself, her friends, or her surroundings. It just seemed like everyone around her had something extra, something that she could never understand and never hope to gain. Like a sixth sense.

Catra and Melog wandered through the Whispering Woods for what felt like an hour, at least. She couldn’t tell what time it was, the thick blue-green canopy obscuring the daylight as well as any hope that she could reckon the position of the moons. She didn’t remember any mention of navigating the Woods in Horde survival training — not that she had been paying much attention.

Out of nowhere, a clearing appeared. There had been trees and then suddenly there weren’t. In the open space, there was a massive stump, its roots branching out and creating a hollow underneath thick layers of moss. A curtain was draped to cover the largest opening, and next to the entrance was a chimney made of sticks bound together with rope.

Catra’s eyes widened with wonder. “What is this place, Melog? Is this someone’s house?” she mused, treading further into the clearing and taking in her surroundings. She remembered hearing something once about an old woman who lived in the Whispering Woods, but she had assumed that was just another ghost story from the Horde barracks.

Melog approached the dwelling, turned around to face Catra, and sat politely outside the doorway.  _ Inside you will find the one you seek. _

Brow furrowing with hesitation, Catra crept toward the entrance. “Hello?” she called, pushing the curtain to the side with a nervous hand.

“Oh! Hello, dearie!” 

Catra’s tail shot straight backwards and puffed out with surprise.

“Come in, come in. Madame Razz has missed you!” The peculiar voice came from a woman — the oldest Catra had ever seen, probably. She was in the running for the shortest, too. She shuffled over to Catra, her purple robe dragging against the ground, and peered up through glasses as thick as soda bottles. 

“By the stars, your hair is so short! And where is your pin? Oh!” She clasped a hand, covered with rings and bangles, across her mouth. “Has the wedding not happened yet? Forgive me, you know how Madame Razz does with these things. Come, come. Let Madame Razz get you a muffin.” The old woman — Madame Razz, Catra supposed — turned around and hobbled to a shelf on the back wall of her hut.

“Uh…” Catra stood frozen in the doorway. What pin? What wedding? She wasn’t prepared to be accosted by senile forest ladies today. “I think I’m just gonna… show myself out.” She backed slowly out of the dwelling, ducking to avoid the low clearance of the doorway.

“Melog, this lady is crazy. I don’t think she—” Catra stopped as she turned around. The magical cat was nowhere in sight. “Melog? Come on, I want to get out of here. Show yourself.” She stood in the spot where the creature had sat and surveyed the clearing. Panic started grabbing at her throat. “Melog, this isn’t funny. I wanna go home.” Her tail began thrashing frantically from side to side.

“Who are you talking to?”

Catra yelped at the sudden presence beside her. She looked down to find the old woman again, staring up at her quizzically. The feline’s ears pointed straight back as she made her best attempt to smooth the fur on her tail. “Gods, lady, don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“Oh, was it Loo-Kee? He never lets Madame Razz find him, the little spoilsport.” Razz tapped her broom on the ground, releasing a few dull sparks of golden light from the handle. She began hobbling about the clearing, muttering something to herself and squinting at shadows in the trees.

It had to have been a miracle, that this woman had lived to be this old. She was in the middle of nowhere, with nobody around besides this “Loo-Kee” character and the tiny white moths that followed her around. But if she had ways of getting food, that had to mean…

“Hey, wait up.” Catra followed the woman to the edge of the clearing. “Listen, lady— er, Razz, do you have a map or something? I really need to get out of here.”

Razz turned to face her again, her massive glasses slipping to the end of her pointed nose. She laughed. “Oh, Catra! Madame Razz needs no maps. We have magic! Now come, we must gather leaves for the tea.”

Before Catra could say anything, Razz headed straight into the bushes. “Wait! Hey, wait! What are you doing!? How do you know my name!?” she called after the hermit, who was propelling herself across the forest floor at speeds that should not have been possible for an elderly woman.

Abruptly, Razz stopped to pick a few leaves off of a bush and dropped them into her basket, mumbling under her breath. Just as Catra caught up with her, she sped away to another bush. Catra had to run on all fours to keep up.

Catra tried to speak with Razz again as she approached the next stop, a tree with branches that drooped low enough for the old woman to pick its tiny purple berries. “How in the nine hells are you going so fast, lady?” She panted, catching her breath from the sprint. “What’s in these berries?”

“Oh, it isn’t the berries, dearie.” Razz popped one into her mouth. “Madame Razz just follows what the Woods are doing!”

“Wait, what?” Before Catra could inquire any further, Razz zipped away to her next destination. Catra thought back on what Melog had told her about the flow of magic in the ground. Was this old woman surfing on some kind of magical wave?

Catra dashed after Razz as she found another clearing and began plucking leaves from the multi-colored bushes. The air seemed brighter in this part of the woods somehow, even though the canopy still concealed the sky. Pink points of crystal jutted up from the ground at the edges of the clearing. Catra had the feeling that she had been here before.

“Razz,” Catra said, grasping the woman’s shoulder as she shuffled through her basket, “Can you  _ please _ explain what your deal is?”

The hermit reached up to meet Catra’s hand with her own. Her skin was papery and calloused, but warm, in a way that settled Catra’s racing heart. It was much the same warmth that Adora seemed to always carry. Looking up, Razz grabbed the feline’s palm, then slowly knelt on the forest floor, motioning for Catra to join her. She guided Catra’s palm down to lay flat against the spongy moss covering the ground.

Catra fought the urge to recoil as her fur made contact with the damp undergrowth. But with her hand pressed into it, the ground felt… alive. More than just the kind of life one sees in a blade of grass. It felt like it was breathing somehow, even though it didn’t move.

“What do you  _ feel _ , dearie?” Razz asked in a whisper, watching intently as Catra’s face tightened with hesitation.

What  _ did _ she feel? It wasn’t anything Catra could trace back to a specific sensation. There were no sounds or sights, no scents or touches that could have been the source of the warmth she suddenly felt blossoming in her chest. The feeling radiated from her heart out to her fingertips, and almost tickled when it met the ground. The meeting of her palm and the mossy floor felt the way Catra imagined two magnetic poles must feel; drawn together by an invisible force, separable but never complete without the other. The only thing she could have compared it to was love.

“Can you feel the magic? The life?”

Magic. In quick succession, a series of memories flashed through Catra’s mind: blowing through the walls of Thaymor with a tank; overhearing plans to poison Plumeria’s land; tapping a glass bulb on an electronic model of Etheria until it broke; plowing through the frozen waste of the Whispering Woods; throwing a switch in Hordak’s sanctum and being consumed by bright purple fire and deafening noise as the only person she’d ever loved watched in helpless horror. A familiar gentle voice rang through her mind.  _ Why’d you do it, Catra? _

The sensation in her hand disappeared, replaced by a terrible nothingness, the cold stillness of a corpse. She felt a chill on the back of her neck, where her hair only barely covered the scar left by Horde Prime’s chip. Her fur bristled down her spine. Catra lifted her hand away and stood up, brushing off Razz’s touch. “I don’t feel anything. It’s just dirt.” Her voice trembled with unease.

The old woman sighed knowingly. “Let’s go back, Catra dearie. Madame Razz has what she needs.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It struck me while writing this chapter that Razz is really just Yoda with more dementia and less war crimes.


	4. Compass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra finds her way home.

Madame Razz snapped her fingers, igniting a fire in the hearth, and hung a blackened iron kettle above the flame. The hovel Razz called home was messy, but not messy the way Catra was used to in her own quarters. The clutter was strewn about the floor in a way that looked almost meaningful, like a cypher hiding a message in the chaos.

Catra squatted uncomfortably on an ancient, three-legged wooden stool. The heat from the fire drew her in slightly, begging her to sprawl out on the floor in front of it, but she could barely stand up, let alone stretch out.

Neither of the two had said anything to each other since they returned to the hut. The only sounds were the crackle of the magical fire and the muted cacophony of birds in the forest. Razz pulled a second stool from one of her junk piles and set it across from Catra’s next to the hearth. She eased herself into the seat and looked at Catra expectantly.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Catra asked defensively, her face scrunching with self-consciousness.

“Why don’t you tell Madame Razz what’s on your mind, dearie?” 

The way Razz’s glasses magnified her eyes made Catra feel like the woman could stare directly into her soul. Maybe she could; Catra still wasn’t sure how she had known her name. Catra felt the tip of her tail twitching on the ground; she wrapped it around her ankles in an attempt to conceal her anxiety. “Nothing. I just want to go home.”

Razz tutted. “You can’t go home yet! We haven’t had tea.”

Tea.  _ Shit _ . She was supposed to be home in time for tea with Adora. Knowing Adora, there was probably already a team of Bright Moon guards dispatched on a search-and-rescue mission for her. She glanced over her shoulder to the doorway. The awful shadows of the Whispering Woods were barely visible through a crack in the curtain. She still had no map, nothing to guide her through the treacherous forest.

“Look, Razz,” Catra said firmly, rubbing at the tension in her forehead again. “I need to go. Can you please just tell me how to get back to Bright Moon?”

At that, Razz stood up again from her stool and retrieved two clay mugs from behind her. She grabbed a handful of the contents of her foraging basket and squeezed them tightly in her palm for a moment. When she opened her fingers again, the leaves and berries had been completely dried and crushed. Razz sprinkled the mixture into the two mugs, then snatched the kettle from the fire and poured boiling water over the leaves.

She shuffled over to Catra, offering a steaming mug with her frail, outstretched arm. Catra leaned away from the gesture at first, but Razz nodded her head, insisting that she take the tea. Hesitantly, Catra grasped the unglazed handle of the mug and brought it back close to her lap, wrapping her other hand around the cup to absorb its warmth. She peered down into the tea, looking for an answer in the leaves floating on the surface of the browning liquid.

“Why are you afraid of the woods, Catra?” Razz’s voice startled Catra, and she almost spilled her tea in her lap as her head shot up to look at the old woman. “What did the trees do to you, hm?”

Catra glanced back down into her tea and noticed her reflection, barely visible among the leaves. Her hair was windswept and wild, mussed in a way that reminded her of the girl she used to see in the mirror of her barrack’s locker room. She looked back up to find Razz’s vacant expression replaced with one that seemed to understand her, that saw past the barbed wire fences around her feelings. Razz felt familiar, suddenly. Not familiar like an old friend or enemy, but familiar like a place she used to live. Familiar like a drawing etched into the side of a bunk bed.

“I guess…” Catra began, surprised at the sudden confidence she felt wading into these emotional depths, “It’s less what they did to me and more… what I did to them.”

Razz paused in thought, then nodded with understanding. “You have done some bad things, dearie.”

The fur on Catra’s spine stood up and she furrowed her brow. “Yeah, I know, okay? No need to rub it in,” she grumbled. She sipped her tea and turned her gaze toward the wall.

“But do you think the trees are scared of you? Angry at you? The woods have been around far longer than even Madame Razz. The scars of this war that you and Adora fought are not the first, and they will not be the last.” Razz sipped her own tea, then breathed a deep sigh. “I must have taught you this lesson a thousand times already, dearie. Magic does not hold petty grudges! Magic is simply there, waiting for you to decide how to treat it. Will you try to destroy it? Control it? Or will you let it into your heart?”

The sound of Adora’s name had turned Catra’s ear toward Razz and pinched something in her chest. A knot formed in her throat, forcing tears to gather under her eyes. They had fought so many battles, she and Adora, that she had lost count at some point. There were so many scars on Adora’s body from where she had drawn blood with her claws that it felt like she was always discovering new ones. She had torn so many holes in so many lives that could never be repaired, in the shapes of mothers, lovers, homes. 

Yet every day, the people around Catra looked at her and just saw a person. In spite of everything she had done, everything she used to be, they still didn’t see her as a monster. To them, she was a person with a heart. Someone who could be their friend. After everything that happened, Adora still didn’t hate her. Had never hated her. Every day, Adora looked at Catra and saw someone she deemed deserving of love _._ And who was Catra to question Adora’s moral compass?

Catra was too overcome by her thoughts to notice the tears streaming down her face or the short, stuttering breaths she was drawing. She looked away from the wall and back at Razz, who wore the same deep gaze as when Catra had turned away.

Razz spoke gently. “Are you ready to go home, Catra dearie?”

Home. Blonde hair and soft skin and snorting laughs and tender words. Catra nodded wordlessly. Yes, she was ready to go home.

* * *

Catra stood in the clearing around the mossy stump that Madame Razz called home. Razz stood next to her, squinting as the late daylight refracted through her thick spectacles.

Catra stared out past the edge of the clearing at the darkening space between the ancient trees. Somewhere she knew Melog looked on, a smug little grin turning up their glowing eyes. They had left Catra here for a reason, she now understood.

A small, frail hand touched Catra’s, beckoning her to turn her palm upwards. She glanced down at Razz just as the woman placed a small paper sachet, full of the tea blend they had just enjoyed, in her paw. Razz looked up at Catra, her giant eyes full of love. “Take this to my dear Adora, she will enjoy it. Tell her Madame Razz misses her.”

Catra smiled as she slipped the tea bag into her pocket. “I will, Razz. Thanks.” She stared at the little old lady for a moment, wondering what kind of thoughts ran wild under that mop of white hair. She knew that she would find out, someday.

Razz grasped Catra’s hand again and led her down to touch the soft ground beneath them. “Now, dearie, close your eyes. Feel the magic.”

She obeyed, concentrating, trying again to feel the warm pull that had come to her earlier. It was there, sure enough, running through her fingertips and up into her chest. But how could she follow it back to Bright Moon?

“Let it in,” Razz whispered next to her. “As long as your heart is open, you can always find your way home.”

_ As long as my heart is open… _ Catra thought of her friends, new and old. Glimmer and Bow, Scorpia and Entrapta. They were all still there, waiting for her to open up.  _ … I can always find my way home.  _ She remembered Adora’s arms wrapped around her, feeling so warm and safe there. Catra felt a purr begin in the back of her throat as her tail lifted, gently pointing upward.

Suddenly, the tiny whiskers near her lip twitched as she caught the slightest whiff of adrenaline. She felt  _ something _ stretch out in front of her, in space and in time. Before she could open her eyes, Catra was chasing that something, bounding past the edge of the clearing and between the monumental trees of the Whispering Woods. Every movement felt automatic, like parts of some fighting form that her mind couldn’t remember, but her body had never forgotten.  _ Hard left, curve right, dodge low, jump, dodge left, dash. _ The underbrush was a blur at the edges of her vision. Catra could only see straight ahead, but she could feel so much more. She could almost  _ hear _ the path back to Bright Moon, as clear as the memory of Adora’s voice next to her ear in the middle of the night.

* * *

In what felt like no time at all, she burst out from the Woods and onto the grand path that led up to Castle Bright Moon. The rest of the journey was easy. Catra remembered every detail of the day that she came back with Adora after the war, from the garlands of flowers arching over the path to the time they spent chatting with Bow and Glimmer in the atrium before Adora finally led her by the hand to her bedroom —  _ their  _ bedroom.

As she rose to her feet and walked towards the castle, she felt a familiar presence join her, striding along proudly at her heel. She chuckled. “Hey, Melog.”

The spectral cat materialized and pushed their head into her hand for a pet, mewing softly.  _ Hello again, Catra. Did you have a productive conversation with the Woman of the Woods? _

She palmed at her leggings, feeling the small tea bag still in her pocket. “Yeah, I think I did. That was kind of cheating, though.”

_ I was not aware that there were rules, _ Melog replied smugly.

“It seemed like she already knew me, I mean.”

Melog cocked their head inquisitively.  _ Isn’t it true that you had never met this person? _

Catra considered it seriously for a moment. There was something so intensely familiar about Madame Razz that it couldn’t have just been a coincidence. But she couldn’t recall ever seeing or speaking with the old hermit before. “I guess I hadn’t, no. But she knew my name and everything. How does that happen?”

The pair continued walking in silence for a minute, then Melog meowed their reply.  _ She knows you now. Perhaps that is how it happens. _

Catra scoffed. “Whatever you say, you little alien freak.” She rubbed Melog between the ears affectionately.

The pair strode up the grand staircase that led into the main atrium of the castle, Catra skipping every other step to stretch her legs. As they crested the top of the stairs, a familiar pair of worn-out boots approached the landing: red with a white stripe running up the middle. Standard Horde-issue. Catra’s ears perked straight up.

Catra launched herself up the last few stairs in as high a jump as she could manage and landed in Adora’s loving arms, wrapping her legs around those sturdy hips. She couldn’t help but laugh with joy as the two spun around, barely containing the momentum of Catra’s landing. Adora stumbled and tripped over herself as she cackled all the way to the ground and cushioned Catra’s fall.

Catra found herself straddling and staring down at Adora. Her wild hair was just long enough that it blocked out her periphery as it hung, allowing her to focus on the beautiful sight below her. “Hey, Adora,” she said softly as she leaned down to plant a kiss on her lover’s soft lips. “Sorry I’m late. Got a little lost.”

Melog nudged Catra’s ribs with their head. Catra chuckled. “Yeah, no thanks to you, you little shit.”

Adora’s dark eyebrows pushed inward, accompanying a familiar soft smile. “It’s alright, Catra. I was a little worried but… I knew you’d come back.” Her voice was sweet, low, and tender like it had been the night before. It made Catra’s pupils widen with wonder.

Adora pushed herself up onto her elbows and Catra stood, offering a hand. Adora grasped Catra’s forearm and pulled herself up and straight into a kiss. Catra draped her arms around Adora’s square shoulders.

Catra smiled, her cheeks almost aching, and pulled away from the kiss. She gazed into Adora’s eyes which, in the late afternoon light, almost glowed the same bright blue as She-Ra’s.

“Did you have tea without me?” Catra asked, a hint of sadness sneaking into her voice at the thought of Adora carrying on in her absence.

“Of course not!” Adora exclaimed softly. Relief swelled Catra’s heart and her lips curled up. “I was damn near ready to take Swift Wind out to look for you. Now come on, I wanna snack!” Adora grabbed Catra’s arm and pulled her toward the grand archway of the castle.

Catra shook her arm free. “Race you!” She broke into a sprint and Melog appeared at her heel, matching her pace.

Adora giggled and stumbled into her own clumsy run. “Hey, no fair! You got a head start!”

“You snooze, you lose, princess!” she called back as her hands and feet pounded the marble floors in the hallway.

* * *

“So what happened to you, anyway?” Adora asked, shuffling through the comically large tea chest in Bright Moon’s kitchen.

“Oh, you know,” Catra replied, her tail swishing leisurely as she leaned against the counter, “Just got lost in the woods and met a crazy old magic lady. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

Adora’s eyes widened and she clutched her forehead. “Oh, shit. Madame Razz! Gods, I haven’t checked on her in months! Is she okay? Is she starving?!” She twirled around to face Catra. “We have to go back, Catra, we have to bring her some food!”

Catra strolled over to Adora and grabbed her shoulders. “Adora, relax. She’s fine. She can pick berries at like 50 miles an hour. Oh, that reminds me,” she said, reaching for the tea bag in her pocket, “she asked me to give you this.”

The anxiety on Adora’s face quickly softened when she saw the tiny paper sachet. “Aw! That’s so sweet. I bet she knew we were having tea.”

“Wait, what? How could she know that?”

Adora took the tea bag from Catra’s hand and walked casually over to the stove, where a steel kettle was almost boiling over. “I think she’s like, unstuck in time. She might be able to see the future or something. I’m not sure, it wasn’t super clear.”

Catra hummed, piecing together the strange tidbits of her life that Razz seemed to be aware of despite having never met her. Could Razz really see the future? Something on Adora’s jacket caught her eye as it glinted in the cool lights of the kitchen: a golden pin, in the shape of a wing, fastening her belt where there had once been a Horde insignia. Catra turned her face away as a warm smile crept across her lips. “Weird.”

She ruminated on all that Razz had said to her. Just this morning, it had seemed absurd to her that she could have any sort of connection with the magic of Etheria. But Razz found a way into her head, past all the noise, and got her to open up. Razz saw that she had magic in her. She just had to let it breathe. Maybe her new friends could see that too.

“I think I’m going to talk to Perfuma again tomorrow,” Catra said as Adora poured their tea. “I want to try again.”

Adora turned around and her eyes sparkled as her cheeks pushed up into the stupidest smile Catra had ever seen. “I’m glad. I think this could be really good for you. For us.” She walked back to the counter and set their mugs down next to Catra, then wrapped her arms around Catra’s waist and leaned into her body. “Promise you won’t get lost this time?” she asked, her low voice muffled as she lay her head in Catra’s shoulder.

“I won’t, I promise.” A low purr started in Catra’s chest as she ran her hands down Adora’s back, then up behind her jacket, feeling the familiar muscles and scars through her shirt. “I can see the way forward now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to lampshade the lack of clarity about Razz's whole unstuck-in-time situation a little bit. ("She might be able to see the future or something. I'm not sure, it wasn't super clear.") Does it still count as lampshading if it's fanfic?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [artofkace](https://artofkace.tumblr.com/) (plus whoever commissioned the piece) for the [inspiration](https://artofkace.tumblr.com/post/621125597969743872/razz-starting-to-teach-magic-to-catra-for-a-ko-fi), and thanks to all the people who helped edit/beta this fic for me: Dai, Ellie, NPC, Jae, and really everyone else in our funky little discord server. Y'all are great.


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